He stood across the road, watching the smiling, animated couple leave the theatre with a boy of about four and another on the father's hip. The young one shared Molly's hair colour, while the older seemed to take after his father. They looked happy, looked like they fit together, fit in their surroundings. They looked safe and sound, happy in their little world. A world so far from what he inhabited that they might as well have been living on another planet.
The man hailed a cab, kissed Molly on the cheek and climbed in, followed by the older child. The younger one seemed to cry out Mummy! Mummy! as the cab drove away, leaving a smiling and waving woman on the footpath. As her family moved out of sight, she started walking towards Barts. Till she slowed, turned around and looked straight at him.
He thought jeans, a designed leather hoodie and a bearded face would have sufficed as a disguise, but then he had forgotten that it was Molly. He was rooted to his spot as she retraced her steps, approaching him with an even gait.
"Sherlock."
"Molly." He nodded back.
"Good to see you…Greg told me you were back." There was a pause as they stood just looking at each other, like neither of them had a thing to say. Or too many things were warring to make their way to their tongue.
"Coffee?" She finally asked. He could only nod in response.
They sat in a quaint little coffee shop in one of the by lanes, quiet but not at unease.
"You look good." He just raised a curious eyebrow. "For someone who has been on the run in Eastern Europe for the last five years, you look good." There was a pause as she took a sip, "Is this a break…or are you back?"
"I am back…but that doesn't mean this is a break."
"Ah yes, the game is always on." She smiled at him. She seemed carefree, confident, happy. He suddenly felt like his presence was detrimental to her continuing to be so and almost got up.
She narrowed her eyes, her steady gaze pining him to his place. She could still read him as well as ever. That made him even more jittery.
"Congratulations by the way…two children…you're faster than John." He smiled at her, having learnt by now that family was considered more or less a neutral topic of discussion.
She frowned a little before giving him a dazzling smile. "Theo is three and a half and Glen is one…my life revolves around them." He nodded back, suddenly feeling extremely awkward. Her hands were bare but he could see the ring worn on a chain around her neck, her job would necessitate that. So he finally addressed the elephant in the room.
"…and their father?" He couldn't bring himself to use the word husband. It would cement her new status firmly in his mind and right now, he just didn't have it in him to deal with that new change.
"He's a lovely man. He's kind, gentle, understanding. The perfect father."
He nodded, looking away at the distant traffic. His brother, his new colleagues they had all warned him that the world would feel different, would be different. But he still had to see for himself. Things had been pretty ok on all other fronts, but no one warned him of Molly's new status… and why should they. It had dawned on him after a long time that while things and people changed around him, there was always one constant, Molly Hooper. And he had held on to that as he fought for his life and Queen and country.
But now he was back and the constant had changed. Maybe the world really was different.
"And husband?" He had to open his mouth…he had to ask, as he mentally kicked himself.
"Well…I'm sure he's fabulous but you'll have to ask my sister. She was caught somewhere else so I accompanied them to the movie instead."
It took a moment for her words to sink in, to realise what they implied. He gripped his coffee mug tightly, staring at it as if hanging on for dear life. It was after sometime that he found the words, "Your sister…he was your brother-in-law…but…but the child called you Mummy…"
Molly just shrugged, taking a sip from her cup and looking out. "Glen's just learning to speak. He can't pronounce his 'l'…it all comes out as 'w'…so yeah, Mowwy, Muwwy…it all sounds the same."
He shut his eyes, held his head in his hands. "The ring?" he whispered.
"My mum's. She remarried, and I got to keep dad's ring."
It took everything he had not to just collapse on the table in that little café in the by lane. The heart he never acknowledged had broken to pieces earlier and now was mending in the best way possible.
"Oh Sherlock, you observe but don't see." She said as she rose and hugged his head to her bosom. He held her tightly, almost crushing her as he tried to take in deep breaths.
But the tears couldn't be held back any more. For the first time in five years he gave in to his emotions, acknowledged his feelings and felt human as those kind fingers silently worked through his hair. Her heartbeat was steady, her touch firm and as he momentarily hid from the world, in her arms, he knew he was home. At last.